


Book V: The Hierophant

by DarkeShayde



Series: The Arcana: A Retelling [5]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Accidents, Announcements, Breaking and Entering, Chance Meetings, Developing Relationship, Distrust, F/M, Family Drama, Fate, First Meetings, Flirting, Gossip, Magic, Memory Loss, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Other, Prophecy, Secrets, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15400506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeShayde/pseuds/DarkeShayde
Summary: When Shayde, Portia, and a few of the Palace servant head into town to announce the date of the Masquerade, Shayde runs into Julian again and learns something new. Then, she must survive meeting with the courtiers.





	Book V: The Hierophant

The wagon jolts beneath me, bouncing on the uneven road and lurching from side to side. I’m headed to town with Portia and the other servants, to make the announcement. The sun is just rising when we arrive at the market. By the stars, I hate early mornings. But that seems to be the only kind of morning around the Palace.

“Alright everybody, listen up!” Portia calls. The chattering servants, loaded with baskets, fall silent and congregate around Portia. “Noon ‘o clock, we’ll be making the announcement at the city square.” Portia informs. “Til then, you all should know your errands. Talk to me if you don’t. As for you, Shayde ... I thought you might like to check on your shop.” Her words set off a cascade of emotions, the first being relief. I would like very much to check on my shop. It feels like I haven’t been there in ages.

“I’ll try to find you, but if I don’t, try to be at the square by noon.” Portia finishes. “Bye now!” The servants depart, spreading out into the marketplace. I head in the direction opposite, straight for the shop. My very own oasis. In no time, I arrive. Even in the misty overcast light, it seems to glow. My shop. Home.

Hopping up the steps, I press my palm to the door and release the sealing spell. Hastily, I turn the first two locks, fumbling and dropping my keys before I can get to the third. When I dip down to retrieve them, I spot a small leather pouch resting on the stoop. It is rough in make, and heavy with energy. Someone left this for me ... picking at the knot, I open the pouch. Inside is a magic mixture. Herbs, bark, resin, and incense. I pour a little into my palm and sniff. Myrrh is strongest, but there are scents of sage and marrow root. A mixture for protection. I cast a glance to either side of the street, quiet under the cloudy sky. There’s no one nearby, so I have no idea who left it. I fetch my keys and turn the third lock.

Just as I lean on the door ... It swings open, and I nearly collapse into the last person I expected to see. Doctor Devorak! The sight of him freezes me in my tracks, the pouch dropping from my nervous fingers. I struggle to speak but he beats me to it.

“... Well, hello there.” He says. “Fancy seeing you here. Shayde. I, ah, was in the neighborhood, thought I’d check to see if you’d gotten home all right. And here you are, getting home all right! Marvelous, I’ll stop wringing my hands.” Something tells me he’s not being completely honest. For a moment, I think about calling the guards, but I hesitate. This is the second time he’s been in my shop. Will the guards think I’ve been harboring him? Either way, I have questions for him. I have no fear of the Doctor. I fix him with a narrow gaze.

“How am I supposed to believe you?” I ask in frustration. “You’ve broken in twice now. What are you after?”

“What am I after? Why, I’m not after anything. What would I be-“ He begins before suddenly pausing. “Oh, I hope you don’t think I’m a _thief_. I’m a lot of things, but not that. But ... you wouldn’t take my word for it, would you?” I sense mischief. To my surprise, the Doctor shucks off his overcoat, and starts to unbutton his waistcoat. He throws it open with a flutter, arms outstretched, palm-up in submission.

“Search me.” He challenges. “If you find anything of yours, I’ll show myself to the stocks. Go ahead. Search until you are satisfied.” He lowers his eye, presenting himself for inspection. The sight makes me grow hot at the ears, embarrassed, but I hate to back down from a challenge.

“I think I will.” I say. From the stunned look on his face, he didn’t expect me to take him up on the offer. He recovers quickly enough though.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” And doesn’t he sounds delighted by that? “Well then, don’t be shy. I promise I’ll be good.” Sure he will. I step closer, eyes roaming over his body, unsure where to begin. Tentatively, I reach up and run my hands over his shoulders, which I can barely reach. I’ve never intentionally been this close to him before. There’s barely a sliver between us.

“Not afraid to get up close and personal, are you-“ He cuts himself off when I slide my hands under his shirt. His skin is soft, and surprisingly cool to the touch. When my fingers brush over his throat, I can feel his pulse jump. I run my hands lower on his abdomen. The moment my hands reach his waist, he suddenly twists away, slippery as an eel. I freeze momentarily in surprise.

“No no no, not there!” Julian gasps out. “Er, ahem, I ... I’m afraid I’m terribly ticklish. Don’t tell anyone. It’ll be our little secret.” That is an interesting bit of information to have. But more importantly ... I catch his arm. He almost overbalances, but catches himself at the last second. The shock on his face is absolutely priceless.

“Hold still.” I demand. “You said you would be good.” He bites his lip, flushing under my stare, and obediently stands straight, arms at his sides. I take a step back, catching my breath. This is becoming much more intense than it needs to be. Julian blinks quizzically at me.

“Done so soon?” He sounds disappointed. “Why you’ve only just started! You haven’t even checked my other side yet.” He’s baiting me, but he’s right; I haven’t checked his back yet. I circle around behind him, and he twists around to watch me, not letting me out of his sight. His eye is bright with interest. My cheeks warm under his shameless stare.

“I had no idea you were so ... hands-on.” Julian quips. “How daring of you. Aren’t you afraid someone will see?” I know how to get him to stop talking. It took no time at all to see how the Doctor’s mind works.

“Did I say you could move?” I ask. Answering his question can wait a moment or two. If I’ve judged right, he’ll blush, bite his lip, and obey.

“I, ah ... no, you didn’t.” He replies.

“Then turn back around.” I order. He complies without the slightest hesitation. I can see the tips of his ears turn red. Interesting. A fine tremor goes through him when I slide my palms down his back. “Besides, shouldn’t _you_ be afraid of being seen?” I ask, in reference to what he had asked me a bit ago.

“Er, well, I suppose that’s true ... “ Julian mumbles. Finding it hard to talk, was he? Good. I run my hands over his hips, checking his pockets, and stop when I feel an unexpected hard edge.

“Ah, that, don’t worry about that.” Julian says ... It’s a knife, hidden in his pocket. “But I _am_ happy to see you. I can show, if you like.” I roll my eyes. He’s incorrigible, but I can feel him nervously shifting weight. I walk back around to his front, trailing one hand over his hip. He sways slightly in my direction, but holds himself still with visible effort.

“Are you ... are you done?” He asks, swallowing thickly.

“Almost.” I reply, showing an outward calm I’m certainly not feeling. “You’d better tell me what you were really looking for.”

“You’re very persistent, aren’t you? And, hmm. Thorough.” The Doctor says with a raised brow. That isn’t the answer I asked for and I _am_ going to get what I wanted.

“Answer the question.” Julian’s throat bobs when he swallows again, and he lets out a slow, shaky sigh. I wait, quietly.

“I ... I was looking for answers.” He finally says. “But I didn’t find any. Not the ones I wanted.” He looks so dejected as he says that. Plus, that is the first thing he has said without a wink or a sneer.

“All right. I believe you.” I say.

“Huh? I, ah.” He stutters. “Wait. Really?” I nod, holding back a laugh at his surprise.

“Really.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Julian declares flatly. “You shouldn’t take anyone at their word, least of all me. But, er, well. I do hope you’re satisfied. I would just hate to disappoint you.” And the bravado is back. He retrieves his overcoat with a showy flourish and slips it back on. I can’t help the way I watch the movement.

“Well, I’m sure you have things to do, so I’ll just be getting out of your way ... “ Julian announces. He takes an unnecessarily wide step, contorting his long form around me to pass.

“Doctor Jul- Doctor Devorak-“ I begin, but I’m cut off.

“Take care now.’’ He says. “If the powers that be should ever entangle us again ... Call me Julian.” He is rather insistent on that. Curious. His broad grin takes only a minute to fade, before shock takes over his features. Bristling at the nape, I look carefully over my shoulder. Portia. She must have come to find me, but she pays me no attention at all. All of her focus, the suspended disbelief in her wide eyes, is on the man beside me. When she speaks ... The quiet word that escapes her sounds different, an unused voice from the depths of her heart.

“Ilya?” Portia stumbles, then runs to the steps. I back into the wall as she throws herself at the Doctor, who catches her easily.“Ilya?! Is it really you?” She asks. Her shaking hands come to either side of his face. His eye starts to shine, I notice in wonder.

“It’s me.” Julian says quietly. That’s the most tender sounding I’ve ever heard from him. This is an interesting turn of events. I’m scared to say anything and draw Portia’s attention.

“You- you-“ Portia gasps. “You bastard! What are you doing here?! Out in the open? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” Her fingers curl, tugging at his ears and drawing a shameful wince.

“You’ve grown up strong, Pasha.” The Doctor says simply. “I’m ... sorry I wasn’t there to see it.” That seems to really set Portia off.

“Ohh. I’ll show you sorry! You unbelievable ... Shayde!” Finally spotted, I can only offer Portia a curious look. She releases Julian’s ears, tugging him off the stoop by the arm instead. “I- I ... I’ll catch up with you later!” Without further ado, Portia hauls the floundering Doctor away into an alley nearby, leaving me to ponder. Didn’t they act like family? The letter I found on the Doctor’s desk. ‘Dear sister’ ... Hmm ... food for thought. Later. I have other matters at hand.

I enter my shop, and head straight for the back room. My curiosity has concocted a theory. The Countess believes a possession of Julian’s is all I need to find him. Though, apparently I don’t even need that, since he seems to find me more often than not. But perhaps ... Perhaps a possession of Asra’s will be enough to call him to me. I could go to the pool at the fountain again, in the Palace gardens. If I bring something with meaning to him ...For some time, I linger over his possessions, his clothing and magical relics, comforted by his smoky scent. But it’s the strangest thing. I try to feel it out, but none of Asra’s things carry even a trace of his sparkling magic. They may as well belong to someone else.

Before I know it, the sun is high in the sky. A distant clock tolls the hour, shocking me to my feet. The announcement! I can already hear a crowd roaring in the distance. Biting my lip in vexation, I abandon my venture and close up the shop, heading for the city square. When I arrive ...

“Ahem! Hear ye, hear ye!” Portia’s voice rings out. “This is an announcement from the Palace of your Countess Nadia!” The square is densely packed with people, smaller folks and late-comers circling the perimeter for a better view. I join them, sliding carefully amongst the buzzing crowd. A pleasant smell I can’t place is wafting from nearby.

“On the eve of the passing of your most glorified Count Lucio, the Countess will open the Palace gates. That’s right, folks! All are invited not to mourn, but to celebrate the spirit of the dearly departed Count!” Portia says. A ripple of loud excitement passes through the crowd. At its edge, I follow the familiar scent. Myrrh. The leather pouch, dropped on my shop’s doorstep comes to mind. And then I come upon a figure, hulking in size. Their eyes are shadowed, under a hood and a heav brow. Though the excitement in the square is growing, the figure looks more like a harbinger of despair.

“It’ll be a Masquerade like no other before!” Portia’s voice carries over the crowd. “Spread the word, tell your friends! You won’t wanna miss this!” As the crowd erupts in chatter, the massive stransfer moves down a side street, escaping with the scent of myrrh. The stranger’s lumbering pace is easy to match. I catch up halfway down the street.

“Hey, where are you going?” I call. They turn slowly as if they dread the sight of me. A voice like thunder rumbles from under the robes and furs.

“Blindly to the slaughter.” They say. “Just like all the rest of you.” Well, that isn’t a very helpful or enlightening answer. What is it with this kingdom and people talking in riddles?

“What do you mean by that?” I ask. “Please ... speak plainly.”

“It doesn’t matter what I say.” The stranger shrugs. “My words won’t last. They never do.” The stranger shuffles away, chains rattling. My thoughts race. If they left the protection spell at the shop ... Did Asra send them? I don’t get the chance to ask. With a suffering look, the stranger disappears into the misty, afternoon shadows of the alley. I head back toward the servants’ wagon, where Portia is tossing flower petals and rice onto the dancing city folk.

“Shayde, there you are!” She says when she sees me. “You missed the big reveal! Would you look at this crowd? No incidents back at the shop, I hope? Nothing out of the ordinary?” Her smile has a shade of desperation as she bats her eyes pleadingly. Before I can say anything in confirmation, the moment is lost. We’re jostled as the wagon lurches to life. Wild laughter follows us down the streets, ringing with news of the Masquerade. But my mind is lost elsewhere.

The ride back from the city is alive with talk amongst the staff. When we return to the Palace, the bridge is lined with carriages. Portia informs me that the courtiers must have arrived. A shiver runs from my head to the base of my spine. She escorts me to a wing of the Palace that smells strongly of incense and half a dozen perfumes. I know we’ve reached the parlor door by the music and cackling laughter inside. Noticing my nerves, Portia remembers to give me a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry, Shayde. These people can’t wait to meet you.” Her words ground me. People ... people, that’s all they are. The room is hazy, swimming with elegant plumes of smoke. Softly lit figures lay about on pillowy couches. As my escort, Portia has run me through the guest list for the evening debut. I try to put faces to their names. The Countess notices me first, glancing up from behind a gleaming pipe organ as she plays a victorious chord.

“Announcing Shayde, friend of the Palace, and apprentice to Asra, the magician.” Portia says.

“Welcome, Shayde.” Nadia answers. Then, all eyes in the room are on me. It isn’t a pleasant feeling at all.

“This is Shayde? Cuter than I imagined!” Says Procurator Volta. She would almost look sweet in her nun-like garb, if not for the one eye that is totally white and ... is that a fang sticking up from her bottom row of teeth? Her clear eye is a golden brown and the hair sticking out from under her hat is reddish brown. Something is wrong here. I can feel it right away.

”What a delightful surprise, we were all just talking about you!” Declares Praetor Vlastomil. He is practically skeletal and as pale as a corpse. The rather tall man has no color to him at all. His hair and even his eyes are a pale grey. Their eyes ... all of them have strange eyes. The pupil slitted like a cats, or a lizard’s.

“Sit, sit! Sit right down here beside me, Shayde! Don’t be shy!” Pontifex Vulgora says. They look the strangest out of the bunch, with their very yellow eyes and horned headdress. They are rather short but stocky and wear metal gauntlets of gold that scream war. The welcoming gestures take me by surprise, I hadn’t expected such enthusiasm, false as it seems. Eager, manicured hands draw me down onto the couches and into the folds of conversation. The Countess watches me from where she played the pipe organ, drawing contemplative tones.

“Tell me, Shayde, how was the announcement received?” Nadia asks. I don’t get an opportunity to respond. The courtiers all begin to add their thoughts on the matter.

“One can only imagine! Even we, the favorites of the Countess, closet to her heart, had no idea!” This is from Quaestor Valdemar. There is a subtle edge to that remark, aimed at me, I’m fairly sure. Valdemar looks slightly more normal than Vulgora, but they have a green tint to their skin that makes them look sick and red eyes that have none of the warmth Nadia’s do. Dressed totally in white, they also have what looks to be horns on their head. That’s when I notice that all of the courtiers have a red beetle broach ... all but one that is.

“That our dear Countess, who shares everything with us, could orchestrate such a surprise!” Gushes Volta, her hands clasped to her chest in a very dramatic pose that is far more over the top than anything even Julian has done to date.

“A surprise Masquerade!” Says Vulgora. “How lucky we are, not having to worry about planning for it!” How does Nadia stand this ceaseless gushing and fawning? A few minutes of it and I am ready to tell them all the shut up!

“How lucky Shayde would have to be, to get a word in with you all. Goodness.” Nadia says. They have an answer ready for that as well, it seems.

“Oh, but how lucky she already is!” Vlastomil says. “To be taken in by the Countess, an unproven, unknown apprentice!” They all nod. I may as well not even be here.

“And to take such a, dare I say, chance?” Volta adds. “So very unlike our most thoughtful and meticulous Countess!”

“Chance, you say?” Musses Nadia. “It was not chance that led me to Shayde’s door.”

“Then perhaps the Countess might inform her adoring court ...“ Another voice begins. “... how exactly it was that she arrived at the witch’s door that night.” A prim figure in steely grey robes rounds the couch and offers me a soft, pale hand, looking down a thin nose at me. Consul Valerius. He is the most normal looking of the courtiers, though that isn’t saying much. His long black ombré hair is braided and drapes across his shoulders. His eyes are pale and he carries an air of snobbish superiority. Instead of a red beetle, he bears a golden ram’s head broach. Portia made special mention of him ... The Countess minds him more than the others. He has made trying her patience into an art.

“Or perhaps the witch might tell us herself.” He says. For the first time since I walked in, they are all silent. I don’t care for Valerius’ attitude. He is trouble and not the fun kind. More like the ‘you got in my way and now I’m going to kill you and your family’ kind. I feel as if this is some kind of favorites contest between me and the courtiers.

“Perhaps I might.” I reply, sounding more confident and aloof than I normally would. The Countess’ idle attention returns to the pipe organ as the courtiers swoop down upon me. They seem ravenous for details of our fateful meeting the other night. 

“Go on then, Shayde!” Says Vulgora urgently. “How did it go, exactly? Please spare us no detail!”

“”We’ve heard only the _gossippe_.” Vlastomil tells me.

“Did the Countess truly come to you in the dead of night, stumbling barefoot, tearing through the streets?” Questions Valdemar. What nonsense is this? Gossip, indeed.

“ ... No, she just ... knocked on the door.” I say in confusion. I’ve always disliked rumors and those that live for them. The court is not a group of individuals I can see myself spending a lot of time with if this is how they view their leader.

“Knocked on the door?” Valdemar asks. “Did she perhaps _pound_ on the door?” I don’t get a chance to answer them, before Volta is speaking.

“Are you very sure she didn’t throw herself, weeping upon the door? Please, my poor Countess, I must know if she was weeping!” What fanciful tales they must have heard ... or made up themselves.

“She wasn’t.” I begin. “But I knew that whoever it was, to come at such a late hour, must be in a desperate state ...“ My new companions gather closer to me as I spin the tale. Enraptured, they cling to my every word, now that I finally get the chance to speak. When my recollection is complete, the Countess ends her practice with an impressive trill.

“You know, if you all wanted so badly to know how that night transpired, you might have simply asked.” Nadia says. “As it happens, I was having trouble sleeping-“

“As you have been for some time, Countess!” Cries Volta, ever the one for dramatics, it seems.

“Yes, Procurator.” Nadia agrees, but I can see she is annoyed at being interrupted. “As I have been for some time, I was having trouble sleeping. On that night I woke haunted by the spectre of a dream, no escape for my mind. No comfort from my terrors, nor anyone to whom I could turn, who might understand them.” Well, that is a slight to the entire court. I can practically feel the collective wince they all gave.

“Indeed, I was in a desperate state ... desperately seeking someone, anyone who may be of help to me.” The Countess goes on. “It was I who was lucky, to come across the one I needed so soon. A benevolent universe brought us together, did it not, Shayde?” Her glimmering red gaze falls fondly on me, and the courtiers shift, studying me with new intensity. I start to sweat a little. The moment is broken by an airy sigh as the Consul draped in grey peers at me through his wine.

“Oh, it pains us, Countess, to know that you felt you must look elsewhere for an ear to confide upon.” Valerius says. The other courtiers seem to be in agreement, faces drawn in a play at sympathy. Surely Nadia can see through this act? “We may seem frivolous to you, but should you deem us worthy of your trust, our hearts are as open as a book!” Valerius thrusts his arms wide with a flourish, knocking a pitcher of fragrant wine over and across the front of my garments. A collective gasp sweeps through the room as I feel the heady liquid seeping into my skin. The Countess’ expression as she strikes a sour chord and rises from the organ is murderous.

“Oh, my apologies, how clumsy of me!” Valerius says, carelessly. “Surely a witch as skilled as you knows some hocus or pocus to remedy this dilemma?” Before I can respond to that challenge that magic doesn’t work like that, Nadia speaks over me.

“Enough, Valerius. You have exhausted my patience for tonight. All of you, out. To your chambers. I would appreciate if you could make it there without spilling, but I won’t count on it.” Tiptoeing around my splattered form, the courtiers file sheepishly out the door. I remain with the Countess, mainly because her hand is resting on my shoulder.

“I am sorry, Shayde.” Nadia says. “I had imagined many outcomes to this evening’s affair. I must admit that this was one of them.” Even with my brief interaction with them, I have to agree that deliberately spilling something over someone they don’t like sounds exactly like something the courtiers would do.

“We must get you out of these ruined clothes, of course ... tsk, such pettiness. But I have taken enough liberties with your wardrobe. So, please, do not hesitate. Tell me what you would like. And please, Shayde ... spare no expense.” Nadia implores. Portia stands at the ready as the Countess folds her hands, awaiting my request. It seems like Nadia wants me to ask for riches. Does she ... like showering people in gifts? I, however, dislike asking for anything, even the things I need.

“Silks. Furs.” I begin, sarcasm dripping from my voice. “Gold and jewels.” I am not serious in the slightest and Portia catches on to my jesting tone right away.

“Haha, oh Shayde!” Portia laughs. Nadia simply smiles.

“Oh, Shayde indeed ... I would do no less for my guest.” Nadia declares. I can see that she took my words at face value and deliberately ignored the sarcasm. Oooh boy ... “How delightful ... That you have begun to see your worth to me. It pleases me immensely, but you must tell me in detail. Silks in what colors? The purple suited you nicely. Furs, do you prefer them course or fine?” The Countess steps closer to me, amusement shimmering in her eyes as she gestures to my neck.

“Gold will certainly flatter you, but nothing heavy. How do you feel about emeralds?” She asks. “In my land, the most brilliant emeralds can be found nearly anywhere. One only need look ...“ Nadia trails off for a moment “Portia, send for an emerald from my personal gemoire. A selection of emeralds. If our guest has taken an interest in luxuries, I imagine she will want to choose.”

“Right away, milady.” Portia says. She sweeps past us to the door, but the Countess’ glowing gaze never leaves me. That’s ... disconcerting.

“Until then, we have more pressing matters to attend to.” Nadia says. “You must get out of these clothes. Fortunately, we are not far from my bathing chambers. Come, Shayde.” Nadia offers me her hand, and leads me gently by the arm to a different door from the one I entered the parlor through. In the last shade of sunlight, the Countess’ bathing chamber is cast in a fiery glow. She bids me to undress, leaning patiently against the wall while a fumble with the still unfamiliar clothing. The stickiness from the wine isn’t helping matters.

“Would you like any help?” My jumbled reply is cut short by a sweet, musical laugh. Ah, she’s only teasing me.

“Hmm, you mentioned silks, did you not? I wonder if black is your color.” As I hover indecisively before the bath in my flimsy undergarments, Nadia approaches from behind me. “I suppose we will have to see for ourselves. Will this do, Shayde?” She presents me with a black dressing gown, lovingly embroidered at the collar and sleeves. It slips from her hands into mine like flowing water. I’m compelled to caress the fine fabric, and her fond gaze follows. I’ve always loved rich, black material. There is something simplistic in its beauty that draws me to it.

“My dear guest ... if only for tonight, will this be enough to satisfy you?” Nadia asks. Just then, I hear footsteps approaching down the bathroom hall. Nadia leans away from me, sighing.

“That will be Portia, with the emeralds.”

“Knock knock!” Comes a familiar voice. “It’s Portia with the emeralds! I brought three. Oh, pardon me, I didn’t realize we were undressing.” Sharing a cheeky grin with the Countess, Portiapresents me with three glittering emeralds in an open chest. They are all of similar size, but catching the warm light in different ways. One in particular catches my eye.

“Ah, the Mirror of the Magician?” Nadia says when I pick up the stone. “My, how serendipitous. And an excellent choice. I have a particular fondness for that one. Let us see how it suits you. Turn, please.” I bare my nape to the Countess. Her delicate fingertips draw a wave of shivers as she fastens the chain around my neck.

“Lovely. It plays so wonderfully with those curious eyes. It must be yours.” Nadia declares. Her touch slides under the slim, golden chain, pulling so that the jewel sits properly above my heart. It feels ... good, to wear it. Deep contentment thrums from its place against my skin. I had thought about telling her I couldn’t take it, but now I can’t.

“Ahem. Well, then ... perhaps we should leave you to your bath.” Nadia says, as if she can sense my discomfort at all the attention. “Portia?”

“Yes, milady!” The Countess and her servant move to the hallway, out of sight. Even as she leaves ... I feel the ghost of Nadia’s touch, her gaze, ever penetrating, ever contemplating deeper. My own touch lingers on the jewel a moment longer, before I disrobe completely and sink into the tub.

When I’m bathed and and returned to my guest quarters, I find myself sitting by the window in a daze. My fingers toy idly with the golden chain around my neck, dancing over the jewel. Curious, I unfasten the clasp. The fluid chain slips through my fingers as I hold the jewel, and in a gradual wave, I start to recognize its energy.Am I mistaken? No ... I know the feeling too well. It is Asra’s magic, radiating from the gem in gentle smooth ripples. I remember my desperate search in the back room, looking for connections to him and coming up short. To come upon this brilliant jewel, alive with his energy ... I’ll be able to do it. I have my chance.

I lie in wait until the halls are quiet ... midnight, perhaps, before I steal out of my room. With the emerald hanging from my neck, I’m enveloped in a dreamy calm. The thought of hearing Asra’s voice again ... Something familiar in all the newness. I dash through the empty halls and out onto the veranda. Humid wind pulls ad swells against me, moving languidly through the garden, carrying the babble of night birds. For the first time, the sight of the maze ahead excites me. I know the way now. When I reach the fountain under the weeping willow tree, someone familiar is hanging from its branches.

“Faust!” Did she know I was coming? Or could this be where she keeps slithering off to ... Her weight drops eagerly onto my shoulders, sleek body giving me a friendly squeeze. She takes immediate interest in the emerald, tongue flicking after it as I lift the pendant from my neck. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, holding the jewel over the water ... And drop it. Light catches every glittering, green face as it sinks to the bottom of the pool. Faust rolls herself along my shoulders as the water starts to change, colors blooming, shapes unfolding.

“You’re back.” Asra’s voice comes through first. Tall palms sway rhythmically behind him against a glittering sea of stars. His hair catches starlight in every whorl. It is good to see him.

“I saw the water changing this time.” He says. “Faust, you’re looking lively. Being around Shayde does that to you, doesn’t it?” His bright, smiling eyes twinkle as he lays his chin on his palm, gazing at me. Lively is not how I would describe him right now. Lazy might be more accurate.

“You look tired.” I say. Asra’s expression is sleepy, but content. His secret escapades must have been fulfilling, today.

“Do I?” Asra asks absently. “I don’t feel tired. I was just about to get into the water, but you beat me to it.” I roll my eyes, while Faust slides across my lap to take sniffing flicks at the water.

“You two have definitely gotten closer. She’s opening up to you.” Asra observes. “It may be about time for me to do the same.” I nearly choke at that. My face must be a sight, because it makes him laugh, high and unrestrained. I don’t really believe he means it. He must see my mistrust.

“No, really. It’s true.” Asra assures me. “I want to start being more honest with you.” _More_ honest? Not even completely, just more. Classic Asra. Something always has to be mysterious with him.

“What’s on your mind? Ask whatever you like.” Asra goes on. “All that _I_ ask ... is that you start being more honest with me, too.” I narrow my eyes at that. When have I ever not been honest? His gentle gaze washes over me, bringing me a much needed calm. But I do have a few burning questions.

“Who is Nadia to you?” I ask first. I’ve noticed something in the way the Countess speaks of Asra. Like they’d known each other. And then there is the emerald that hold his magic when none of his personal effects at the shop do.

“Who is Nadia to me?” Asra repeats. “Why do you ask? Well ... She was a dear friend, once. We could talk about anything, everything, all night long. We trusted each other. For a time ... But we’re strangers now.” How could that be? Strangers? My confusion can clearly be seen, so Asra answers the unasked next question.

“Mhm. Precious friends, precious experiences ... you’d be amazed what people can forget.” He musses. “When they don’t want to remember ... “ With a deep sigh and a shake of his head, Asra clears the heavy mood and then he smiles at me.

“So, that’s what you wanted to know? That wasn’t so bad.” The way he phrased that, halts the next question in my throat. ‘So bad’? Fine, I won’t ask anything more. He seems to realize what he said.

“Or ... is there, perhaps, something else on your mind?” Asra asks. His twinkling eyes search mine with wordless depth. I can feel myself closing off. Why must he always act like it is such a trial to answer my questions, even the simple ones? I’m suddenly done talking for the night.

“It’s getting late.” I say, instead of answering his question.

“Is it?” Asra asks. “Time is strange here. Go rest, Shayde. I’ll see you again soon. I know you’ll find me.” I see Asra reaching toward me, toward the water. His touch shatters the image, and he’s gone. Faust looks disappointed, curled on the edge of the pool, as I rise to my feet.

“Come, Faust. I know.” I say to the snake. “He says we’ll see him again soon.” She gives me a short sigh and a longing look at the pool. Reluctantly, she slides up my arm to rest against me. Her presence somewhat soothes the strange ache in my chest ... With a shake of my head, I gather the serpent into my arms and head back inside.


End file.
